


Similar

by PetalChains



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri is still a feral hobo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied mental illness, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Instability, Not the real Sothis, Post-Time Skip, Sothis is a little shit, This Byleth isn't doing so well, slight mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 01:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20399101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetalChains/pseuds/PetalChains
Summary: "I came all the way here to find what I lost. And yet all I find are dead memories.""Whatever you came here to find, I'm afraid all you'll find are corpses."An alternate take on the Blue Lions Reunion Scene, with a not as strong Byleth relating to Dimitri's pain.





	Similar

Five years.

Her legs felt tired and cumbersome as she climbed the cold stone steps.

Five years.

She ignored the random splashes of blood that stained the granite. Her head was swimming, probably from the unexpected screeching of that accursed goddess earlier.

Had it really been that long? She couldn't remember. Inside the stagnant air of the tower, she could still smell that pungent stench of flesh in her nose. Dust particles danced around her, but she kept her eyes focused on the steps. She slowly stepped over the slumped bodies of Imperial soldiers and dragged her feet through their puddles of bodily fluids.

She had been cast into a ravine, completely dead to the world, only to wake up upon the shore five years later. But inside her head, all she could see and feel was the battle that had cost her that precious amount of time.

"How long are you going to mope?"

A very familiar and exasperated voice echoed from inside her skull. She shook her head and continued to climb. It was just another memory that she refused to indulge in. She turned her head in time to see a flash of green hair. A tiny ghostly child floated at her side with an almost accusing smirk. She stuck her tongue out between a pair of tiny fangs and framed the older woman between two of her spindly fingers.

"I entrust you with my power and this is how you repay me Byleth?"

She snorted into her sleeve to clear the dust from her mouth and idly kicked one of the fallen soldiers with the toe of her boot. A satisfying squelch met her leather-clad foot. A furious laugh resounded from the child above her. Her eyes wandered up towards the ceiling where the impish child sat. 

"And now Fodlan is on fire! What a magnificent waste of power you are!"

Byleth grasped gently at the hilt of the sword sitting at her hip. She pulled it out and ran one finger down its spine. The cackling inside of her skull increased before the imaginary child above lunged at her. Her green hair was set ablaze like the forests Byleth saw in her mind.  
"What a waste you are!"

The vile child reached for her unprotected neck, but she never did quite make it. Byleth raised her sword and plunged it right into the child's chest. With a quiet gasp, the child fell upon the sword and hung in the air like a puppet without strings. Or more specifically her strings had been cut.

"Leave me alone Sothis," Byleth lifted Sothis's chin so she met her empty gaze. Her once vibrant green irises were glassy and cold. Almost like the porcelain dolls, Byleth used to break with her childhood strength.

The ghostly Sothis vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving no blood or gore upon Byleth's Sword of the Creator. But she could still hear the furious goddess inside of her head. Calling her a failure, a coward, and demanding for retribution against those that treaded upon holy ground.

She stopped for a second and leaned against the wall. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't stay away from this place. Holy ground or not, it was the only home she had left. An empty casket fit for a dead person such as she.

A rat skittered by her foot and darted down the steps with a squeak. She watched after it and made a mental note. At least she found her dinner for that night.

The bodies kept increasing in number the higher she climbed. Occasionally she would stop and stare at them. Maybe if she waited long enough, one of them would jump up and run their sword through her middle. That thought brought a tiny smile to her pale face.

Near the top, she could feel the warmth of the sun filtering down towards her. She saw just the barest shimmer of light. She had finally made it.

The former professor stood in the place that had once been forbidden to her. The so-called Goddess Tower. But now all that remained were rats and the bodies of the dead, not that the dead made very good company.

She slowly stretched her fingers out towards the sunlight and let it swim across her hand. Even with it directly touching her, her skin still felt cold. Shaking her head, she stepped further into the light. Not noticing the one other occupant that watched her from the shadows.

"I should've known."

Byleth's head slowly turned towards the gravelly voice in the corner. She didn't step closer, but the light moved to show her a slumped over body glaring at her from the floor.

"I should've known that one day you would be haunting me as well." 

The voice was familiar, if a bit older and more hoarse. Something in her chest fluttered in nostalgia, but she quickly crushed it and kept her face impassive. A poorly kempt man clenched the lance he held and leaned heavily against his knee. He was covered in blood, with ragged furs draped across his massive frame. 

Something in the back of her head told her of a similar-looking boy from her past. But the frayed edges of that memory blew away, heedless to her attempts to stop it from scattering apart.

The two of them remained in uncomfortable and dead silence until finally, she opened her thin lips.

"Dimitri."

The man didn't flinch, but his empty eye slowly looked up at her. Blue clashed with mint-colored irises, from an achingly familiar face that mocked him. If her memory was frayed, his was all too perfectly clear. Her ageless face sneered at him from his tight chest, even with her gently smiling at him now.

"I came all the way here to find what I lost. And yet all I find are dead memories."

He gave a half-amused snort; even though he remembered her voice the tone coming from her lips was anything but friendly. She sounded just as tired as he felt. 

"Whatever you came here to find, I'm afraid all you'll find are corpses."

Byleth slowly knelt on one knee. She didn't offer him her hand, or even a frown. Just a sad smile that even his ghosts couldn't match. But somehow, he didn't feel any threat coming from her. Just an embalming cold that bit at him. It was much more frigid than the northern winds of his beloved kingdom.

"Then I guess what they said about me was right."

Now that piqued Dimitri's interest. He lifted his head and grunted questioningly. Her boots were covered in blood, but the rest of her was as unchanged as the day that she became a memory. Her gentle smile still plucked at his heart, the first time she had smiled like that at him it had lit a fire in his belly.

"And what would that be?"

The corners of the woman's mouth lowered for a second. She blinked slowly and then sat down with her legs crossed.

"That I'm dead."

A deep and scornful laugh echoed around her, as the man clenched at his bloodied face. 

"How ironic, to be haunted by the woman who once promised to stand at my side. Only for you now to appear and claim that you are dead!"

"You've changed," the mint haired woman twirled an idle finger in one of her locks. She hummed dryly and traced the dust on the floor. 

Dimitri didn't say anything. But something within his single good eye shifted. Whatever fire stirred within him quickly faded. He sighed through his nose and curled back into his furs.

"You miss the old me Professor?" he grumbled and turned his face away from her. His strong fingers clenched tighter around his lance. She came closer and sat across from him, nervously plucking at the tattered leggings that donned her shapely legs. 

"Do you smell it?" 

Something in her light voice called to him, it wasn't quite warm but it was stronger than the cold inside of him. He sniffed the air and scoffed. All he smelled was the faint scent of blood, his senses having dulled over the last 5 hellish years he had endured on the run.

"All I smell are the rats."

"Exactly. This once holy place has fallen into disrepair, and vermin now tarnish the remains with their presence. Hoping to score what little value is left within these walls."

That wasn't right, the Byleth that he remembered wasn't focused on the damned. She was light and full of strength. The professor he had still held dear haunted his dreams. This could not be the same woman who sat across from him. When he met her eyes again, her thin eyebrows were furrowed. But her smile was edged with sadness.

"What happened to you?" he whispered. Was this the same woman who called to him in his nightmares, telling him that the Emperor had to die? 

"I died. And my hopes and dreams died along with me," she frowned morosely. She brought her knees to her chest and rested her chin. Something inside Dimitri's chest clenched tighter, his frown deepened and he scooted a bit closer. His armor made a screech against the granite, but he was close enough where their knees nearly touched.

"Mine too. Little fills me now but the desire for that vile woman's head," he growled into his furs hoping that his cracked heart would cease its desire. But to his dismay it didn't, and all because of the professor who leaned in closer.

"She needs to pay," her voice shifted. The light and familiar tone now deepened into cold malice. His eye went wide, and the ghosts inside of his mind went still. The Byleth before him was glowing in the sunlight, with the unholy fury of a goddess scorned. She was clenching at her knees, digging holes into her leggings and biting her lip.

"She killed my father, and took everything I held dear," she smashed a fist into the ground; the magic from her fingertips scorched the air with fire and fury. 

"My students are gone. And yet she still lives."

She felt something slowly close around her wrist; he was leaning close to her now with his black glove wrapped around her bare flesh. He was staring intently at her, with faint fascination.

"My dear Professor, it seems hell has claimed you too."

Her fingertips lightly dabbed at the blood dripping from his mouth and cheeks. Dimitri's nose wrinkled slightly in disgust, but he didn't pull away. She felt the hard edges of his skin, and how the war had wiped away any resemblance of softness in him. She gently swiped away one of his loose bangs.

"And it seems hell has burned your heart, Dimitri."

For once, the ghosts inside of his mind were quiet. The silence was salvation to Dimitri's ringing ears. But his hollow heart wavered with the way she regarded him with such fondness. If he opened his mouth as she spoke, no love would have flowed forth, just cobwebs and dust.

"I'm sorry that I left you behind," the ageless professor slid her cloak across his skin and cleaned off the remaining mess. She clicked her tongue as she went, trying not to linger in one spot. Something ached inside the middle of her chest; not that it mattered. Unlike her student, she had no heartbeat to waste.

"I'm not going to ask you how you ended up here. But you've endured much."

With her work finished, Byleth slowly leaned back on her heels and watched. Her companion had not let go of her other palm, but he was too fixated on it to look at her. His brow was furrowed, and a slight frown tugged at his jawline.

"You are still warm," he growled lowly and lifted their conjoined hands upwards. Before Byleth could pull away, the feral prince buried his frigid cheek against her burning hand. He sighed contentedly and any weight in his shoulders loosened.

"Your hands are warm, have they always been?" Dimitri asked with quiet awe that turned Byleth's cheeks red. 

The professor quietly buried her nails into the roots of his long hair and started to remove the ratty ends. Dimitri's breath shuddered, but he didn't shift from his position. He pulled at Byleth's arm and dragged her forward until she was straddling her legs around his middle. He buried his nose into the top of her head and breathed.

She smelled like mint and rain, a fresh scent that he imagined the goddess herself not even being able to match. Her nails continued to dig at his scalp and undo the knots. "Please be real," Dimitri quietly murmured into her hair as his body shuddered from some confusing emotion he could not hide. The nails near his scalp stopped their digging, and the tiny professor in his arms hummed. 

"Can a dead person be real Dimitri?" 

The feral prince snarled, making the hair on Byleth's neck stand on end. He started to shake, his heart hammering so hard that she could feel it echoing inside of her empty chest. The light streaming from above shifted, leaving the empty room set ablaze in a cascading stream of gold and white.

It was too bright for his sensitive vision, too innocent for one scorched to the bone such as he. But the woman in his arms steadied his shaking and ignored the empty sobs that only she could hear.

"I'm tired of the nightmares, please don't be one of them," Dimitri's voice was lathered in turmoil. Byleth looked over his shoulder and watched as the ghost of Sothis twirled by her in the blazing light. The vengeful goddess mockingly made kissy faces at her charge and laughed evilly. In the middle of her chest was a gaping and still bleeding hole where she had met the end of Byleth's sword. 

"We all have nightmares, my dear student, even I," she kissed his forehead with her scorching lips. His sobs grew angrier and stronger, and he used nearly all of his vicious strength to keep her centered in his lap.

The imaginary Sothis floated above the pair, kicking her pale legs freely in the air. From up above the blazing light darkened as day gave way to the beginnings of dusk. She stuck her tongue out at her vessel and made snarling faces.

In the distance, Byleth imagined that she could hear the Holy Bells ringing for the goddess's approval. What the approval meant not even the broken teacher could tell, but she kept her grasp tight around her student. She took a broken breath and imagined a heartbeat inside of her meeting his.


End file.
